Love & Devotion Blog Tour Kick Off

Hey there! Thanks for stopping by to check out my blog tour. This post is going to include a lot of information, so stick with me.

First, I’m going to give you the schedule with the links to the other stops on the tour. Each stop should hold something unique, including reviews, excerpts, a playlist, and bonus scenes, so be sure to hit each one for the full-bodied blog tour effect.

Second, I’m doing a giveaway, but it works a little bit differently than what we folks in lesbian fiction are used to doing. I’ve got the list of prizes and directions for how to enter a little further down in the blog.

Third, because I want something a little bit fun on the inaugural post for the tour, I’m including an excerpt from Love & Devotion for y’all to read.

Fourth, after that, there will be some links for y’all to check out. Stuff like where to find me on facebook and twitter, where to find my publisher, and where to buy my books, including Love & Devotion. And there’s a bio down there, too.

One set of four wine charms with a cowboy boot dangler (In honor of the fact that Love & Devotion is set in Texas)

Now, entering the drawing isn’t quite as simple as leaving a comment in the space below. Feel free to do that, but know that it’s not entering you into the drawing.

For this, I’m using a service called rafflecopter. All you have to do is click right there where is says “Click Here to Enter the Drawing” in big blue letters. Go ahead, click it. Then, when you get there, it’ll give you some ways that you can enter to win the prizes. Be sure to click on all the options, because that increases your odds of winning.

Good luck!

EXCERPT FROM LOVE & DEVOTION

She stared at Emma and held the phone to her ear. “I gotta go.” She fumbled with the END button and realized she’d held the phone upside down. She disconnected the call and sat on the side of the bed.

“You look…different.”

Emma wore a gray camisole and matching satin briefs. KC was caught up in Emma’s soft femininity. When Emma slept over at KC’s, she invariably forgot to bring nightclothes and ended up wearing one of KC’s old T-shirts and a pair of sweats. At home, it was easy to forget that Emma was even a girl. Here, wearing that, KC felt like a fool for ever overlooking that fact. KC realized her mouth was still hanging open and she clamped it shut. Idiot.

“Huh? What?” KC looked at her phone, looked at Emma, then back at her phone. She pressed the button to send Lonnie to voice mail. Talking to her was a bad idea, made worse by the expression on Emma’s face when she heard Lonnie’s ring tone. “No, I’m not.” She set the phone to silent and laid it on the bedside table.

Emma held KC’s gaze, shuffled her feet a couple of times, then turned away. She took her brush from her bag and started in on her long hair. She brushed until it was silky smooth and flowed between her fingers. KC stared the entire time.

“Are you ready?” Emma asked as she put her brush away.

KC swallowed. She wasn’t ready at all. “For what?”

“Bed. Or do you want to watch TV or something?”

KC’s earlier suggestion to snuggle and watch porn came back to her, and her face flared with heat. Emma, her best friend, made her blush.

Maybe two beds would have been better. It didn’t seem like a big deal when she’d first walked into the room, but now she sure as hell felt like it mattered a lot. Maybe she just felt different because the room was rented. Two adults in a hotel for the weekend should be up to a whole lot more than just sleeping. And if she’d danced with any other woman the way she had with Emma earlier, sleep would not be an option.

“Um, whatever. I just need to use the bathroom first.” KC rounded the bed. She had to make it past Emma to get to the bathroom, and that had her brain sputtering like crazy. She told her legs to turn, to veer around Emma, but they made a straight path toward her. KC’s only choice was to stop or plow right through her. Emma exhaled sharply, and KC was close enough to feel Emma’s breath on her skin.

Neither of them spoke. KC stared into Emma’s eyes, searching for the answer to all the questions pinging through her brain. She found more questions bouncing back at her. And she found the answer to all of them. Emma.

A strand of hair, meticulously combed, yet still rebellious, drifted into Emma’s face and clung to her bottom lip. KC, suddenly afraid to touch her, raised her hand halfway, then stopped. She wanted to ask if this was okay—her desire to remove the hair and return it to where it belonged—but she was equally afraid to speak. Emma blew gently in an attempt to dislodge it. The hair danced out and tickled KC’s cheek, but otherwise stayed firmly in place.

“Stubborn.” KC stared at Emma’s lips, soft and moist, and her mouth went dry. She licked her own lips absently. “Let me…”
She raised her hand slowly in order to give Emma plenty of warning about her intentions. She was going to touch Emma—touch her face, her lips—and she wanted Emma to be okay with that before she made contact. Emma didn’t move. Her eyes remained trained on KC’s until KC’s finger brushed her skin. They slipped shut at the touch.

KC held perfectly still, barely touching Emma’s cheek. The gentle contact felt like an awakening and it scared the crap out of her. This was Emma. Her best friend. Emma.

As slow as she possibly could, she eased her forefinger beneath the strand of hair. Every movement prolonged and amplified the current building between them. She felt herself leaning closer and couldn’t stop it from happening. She hooked her finger around the hair and pulled it away from Emma’s lip. Emma’s tongue chased it, licking along the contour where the hair had been seconds ago. KC tucked it gently behind Emma’s ear and combed it into place with her fingers.

She was overstepping. She knew it but didn’t stop. She trailed her fingers through the soft locks. She’d touched Emma’s hair plenty of times before; this was the first time she’d really felt it. The silky smooth flow teased her fingertips, begging her to delve deeper. KC cupped the side of Emma’s face, her fingers still tangled in the hair at the base of Emma’s neck. She stretched her thumb and swiped it first over Emma’s cheek, the soft curve of her smile, then reached farther. She traced Emma’s lip, catching the moisture left behind from Emma’s tongue.

Emma leaned into the touch and her eyes fluttered open, dark and heavy.

KC was mesmerized. “Em…”

She moved to close the gap, to touch her mouth to Emma’s. She brushed her lips carefully, gently against Emma’s. Her body was rioting, demanding more, but she existed inside the eye of the storm, soft and sure.

Emma sighed into her mouth, kissed her once more, her lips quick and fleeting, then pulled away. Her eyes were closed again when KC recovered enough to look at Emma. She rested her forehead against Emma’s and breathed her in, the faded sweet scent of the apples and jasmine in her shampoo, blended with the smell of her desire. Emma placed her open palm against KC’s chest. KC’s heart threatened to pound clean out of her rib cage.

Emma raised her head. When KC tried to follow, she held her in place, her hand hard against the beating of KC’s heart. Emma opened her eyes and the desire was still there, but overshadowed with sadness.

“I can’t do this.” Emma stepped away, her fingertips stretched to maintain contact with KC, and then her hand dropped to her side.

THE REST OF THE HOOKUP

BIO: Jove Belle was born and raised against a backdrop of orchards and potato fields. The youngest of four children, she was raised in a conservative, Christian home and began asking why at a very young age, much to the consternation of her mother and grandmother. At the customary age of eighteen, she fled southern Idaho in pursuit of broader minds and fewer traffic jams involving the local livestock. The road didn’t end in Portland, Oregon, but there were many confusing freeway interchanges that a girl from the sticks was ill-prepared to deal with. As a result, she has lived in the Portland metro area for over fifteen years and still can’t figure out how she manages to spend so much time in traffic when there’s not a stray sheep or cow in sight.

She lives with her partner of twelve years. Between them they share three children, two dogs, two cats, two mortgage payments, one sedan, and one requisite dyke pickup truck. One day she hopes to live in a house that doesn’t generate a never ending honey-do list.

Incidentally, she never stopped asking why, but did expand her arsenal of questions to include who, what, when, where and, most important of all, how. In those questions, a story is born.